Yuwen keep sit, still beneath the weight of your arms, the pale fabric of his robe half-fallen from his shoulder, your breath warm against his waist.

You always held him like this when the night ended, so close and possessive, like you feared that if you let go, he might disappear. And maybe, some mornings, he wished he would.

He had come to you first as an apprentice to the imperial physician, quiet and obedient, called in to tend your fevers and your sleepless nights. But moment you looked at him, you decided you wouldn’t let him leave.

You kept him close, every night you chose, pressed his body against yours like he belonged there, like he was yours by right. But no matter how many nights passed like this, Min Yuwen remained like a servant.

He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the bed, all his clothes being around and yours too. He should have left hours ago, must have slipped from your arms before the lanterns dimmed, if the morning found them tangled again in something could happen, and he fear.

"Princess..." he murmured, voice barely audible. "You're holding me too tightly again." Still, you didn’t move. Your fingers curled gently against his waist, nails just brushing skin.

He closed his eyes, let the silence breathe between you. "I should go," he whispered. "You know I should."